Who we never thought we'd be
by Seraniti
Summary: Nonmagic. Harry and Hermione were abused at home. After 13 years they leave, looking for a better life. With no other solutiond they become prostitutes. They thought their life would get no better. At least until they met the man who would change it all.
1. Chapter 1

**Who we never thought we'd be**

**TheKingOfHearts**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and original charectors and settings. Please no stealing.(Though you can have the plot when I am done with it.)**

**A/N this contains many offensive things, including, but not limited to, underage prostitution, slash, fem-slash, and abuse. In my universe Ron is a bastard, and is portrayed as such. Much thanx to my bate Caitlyn, without her this would not be half as good as it is now.**

**Prologue**

**---_flashback_---**

"You are nothing but a little slut who will do anything for her parent's approval!" Hermione's father yelled.

"So" she had yelled back.

She knew he had been drinking but hadn't realized how much until he had pushed her against the wall.

A snap echoed through the room.

"Oh my god…." He had said, dropping her.

She had run crying from the house. Not once did she look back.

_**---End flashback---**_

His hand was raised as if to smack her. She wouldn't be surprised if he did, as he always did when drunk.

Hermione had had enough. For 13 years, she had lived in that house, been abused, and hadn't done a thing about it. This time her father had gone too far. He had been drunk and angry and decided to take it out on her. That wasn't unusual; he did it all the time. But usually, he only slapped her around a couple times. This time he had pushed her against the wall and punched her until an audible snap filled the room.

Shocked, he had dropped her and left the room, his eyes glazed.

Hermione decided this time it was too much, and had walked right out of the house. She didn't know how long she had been walking. All she knew was that her side hurt and legs ached. She was about to find a hollow and curl up to fall asleep, when she tripped.

Falling on her injured side, she let out a gasp of pain. As did the object she had tripped over.

When she calmed her breathing and subsequently the pain she looked at the figure she had tripped over. It was a young boy.

He had long unruly black hair, but she couldn't tell the color of his eyes because they were closed. He looked young, maybe 11 years old. Small enough to be even younger he looked vaguely feminine, malnourished to the point that his hip bones stuck out, giving him a pleasant set of curves.

The boy groaned again as he stirred, opening his eyes. They were startling. One was a pure emerald green, the other a pale sea green with flecks of red. "Hey" Hermione said.

The child looked up at her. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. The attempt at talking only set him into a coughing fit. Hermione helped him sit up, the only thing she could think of to do to help him.

While the child's coughing fit raged she stroked his back and gently held him, hoping to ease his suffering.

Eventually the coughing changed to dry heaves. Hermione's hand switched from his back to his stomach, easing the pain.

After what felt like hours the child finally calmed. "Hey" Hermione tried again.

"Hey." He croaked back.

"My names Hermione Granger"

"Harry Potter."  
-----  
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	2. Chapter 2

A/N Yay, new chap. My beta just got these to me. I know you guys want me to update faster, but as any of you who work with a beta know, your beta's schedule is more important than your own with getting updates up.

I'll stop talking now and let you guys get to what you want to read.

Chapter 2

4 years later

Hermione's POV

'Gawds he looks awful' I thought as I walked into the room we shared. Harry was curled up on his 'bed', if you could even call it that. It was just a tiny mattress, covered in blood and sweat stains. He was staring off into space. Not even acknowledging my presence in the room. We had lived here for four years, I was now 17. I still didn't know Harry's age, but he still looked young, maybe about 15.

"Harry?" I said softly, not wanting to startle him. He was dressed only in his boxers which was never a good sign. "Harry?" I repeated sitting down next to him. Still I got no response. "Harry, I'm going to put my hand on your shoulders." Even with my warning, he flinched when I put my hand on his soft shoulder.

His green eyes finally left whatever spot they were examining on the wall and focused on me.

"Hey …" he said softly. He rarely spoke to anyone but me.

"How are you doing?"

"Okay" he says, yeah right, as if I would believe that, Ron was with him today. He is very violent and loves to see Harry suffer.

"I'm fine 'Mione," He says, but the shortening of my name gave it all away. He only ever used it if he was hurting.

"Onto your back" I command, he follows without protesting. Another sure sign that all is not well.

I take off his boxers and examine his backside. "You'll live," I say, "But only after a shower."

He doesn't say anything so I stand up and help him up. Taking his hand, I lead him into the bathroom. I turn on the shower, warming up the water for him. When it reaches a good temp, I strip of my tight black leather pants and skimpy matching leather top. All I had to do today was pole dance, Harry wasn't as lucky.

Once I had stripped down, stepped into the shower. I took hold of Harry's hand and helped him in. He stood under the shower, letting the running water wash all the grime away.

Taking the shampoo I quickly washed my hair and then stepped out of the shower to give Harry some privacy.

Going back into our 'room' I looked at our pitiful lifestyle. We lived in a brothel. Unfortunately, Harry was a favorite of the customers. His pale, almost white skin beautifully contrasted with his ebony hair. He still had the feminine body he had when we met, though he had gained some weight. He was shorter than me though, standing at 5" 4'. 

"Harry" I called "I'm going to get some food!"

Before he could answer, I walked out the door to talk to Peter, the owner of the brothel.

Harry's POV

I barely registered that 'Mione had walked into the room, I was curled unto my side, my whole body aching. 'Mione said something, I couldn't hear her. Her hand reached out and gently touched my shoulder, I couldn't help myself as I flinched away from her touch.

I turned my focus from the wall unto 'Mione. "Hey…" I said softly, not wanting to break my silence.

"How are you doing she asked?"

"Okay" I responded, the look on her face tells me she doesn't believe me.

"I'm fine 'Mione" I try again, though I know I'm not. I ache in all sorts of places I'd rather not get into.

"Unto your back." She commands. I know better than to protest, she has…ways…of getting her way. She yanks off my boxers and examines…certain…areas under them. My cheeks flush a light crimson. She, thankfully, does not see it, as my face is buried in the crook of my elbow.

I don't say anything and she takes my hand to lead me into the bathroom. I let her without any protest. I fell to out of it to protest any way.

She strips of her leather pants and shirt and steps into the shower, leading me with her by are linked hands.

I stand under the shower and let the spray wash all of the grime off. Gawds I fell filthy.

Hermione grabs the shampoo and washes her hair. It looks so pretty when it's clean. She steps out, leaving me to my thoughts.

I need to get away from here, four years, four years of hell. Four years that my body had been violated. At least I hadn't lost my virginity here. No, that was stolen by those who should have loved…those who should have called me one of their own…

I was ripped from my thoughts by 'Mione yelling. "Harry I'm going to get some food!" followed soon after with a door slamming.

A/N Yay! It's longer…I swear on my honor that chapters will not be any shorter than 500 words holds up right hand


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